The last thing I expected on the night of my 10th birthday was to be raped by my favorite uncle, my mother's brother, my Uncle Dan.
As a precocious little 4th-grader, I was the darling of the family, a skinny but cute little blonde angel with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. It was true that I often wore skimpy clothes, like tiny halters and stretchy short-shorts, but that was also true of many of the preteen girls in my class at school.
Most of us were just learning how to show off our bodies in that almost trampy but sexy way that caused boys of all ages to check us out.
And besides, with almost nonexistent breasts and tiny pink nipples, it didn't take much to cover me up.
“Jessica,” my uncle whispered earlier that day at my birthday party, “I've got a surprise present for you later on tonight, but your parents wouldn't approve.”
I just stared at him, fascinated.
“They wouldn't?” I said, already hooked. “What is it?”
He lived right next door to us and I often stayed there whenever my folks went out of town. My father was a national pharmaceutical rep and whenever he went to parts of the country that were interesting or fun, my mother always went along.
That way, they could make a boring business trip into a mini-vacation.
“Maybe you could sneak over tonight,” Uncle Dan told me, in that confidential way he had. “After they're asleep. You could see what it is without your mom and dad ever knowing.”
“Uncle Dan!” I nearly whined, dying of curiosity. “What is it? A pony?”
He just gave me a look, then laughed.
“A pony? In the city?”
My mom's brother was very good-looking at 28-years-old, still single, and an attorney with a good income. Good enough, at least, so he was always buying me presents, many of which my parents didn't know about.
My mother didn't want my uncle spoiling me. But I guess it was too late. I was totally into getting everything I wanted.
He'd already bought me a very expensive desktop computer, for instance, which I kept at his house next door, only using it when I stayed over. I also had tons of great clothes that he let me pick out from catalogues and a lot of toys that my mother and father would be angry to know I had.
Since I spent quite a few nights a year at my uncle's house, it only made sense that I had some things over there to entertain me. As long as I had my homework done, that is. My Uncle Dan was as concerned for my future as my own parents, always making certain I was doing well in school.
In other words, I mattered to him. Almost as if I was his own daughter.
Which is why I was so angry and confused when he actually raped me.
Needless to say, knowing the next day was a Saturday and I didn't have to get up early, I waited until I heard my father snoring, which was sometime after midnight. Then I waited another half hour to make certain my mom was asleep, too.
Lying in bed in my summer pajamas, I dialed my cell phone under the covers and when my Uncle Dan answered, asked, “Hi! Are you still up?”
He didn't sound the least sleepy.
“Jessica, come around to the back,” he told me. “Your birthday present's down in the basement.”
Five minutes later, I was at his back door in my lightweight robe, slippers and pajamas, our homes so close together there was no way any neighbors could see me. I knocked softly and he opened the door and ushered me in.
I noticed he was also in his robe. I couldn't tell, but it almost seemed like he had nothing on under it.
“Downstairs,” he pointed. “Jessica, do you want a drink?”
Standing on the landing with him, the way he'd said it made me ask, “What do you mean? Like a root beer?”
His smile told me that wasn't what he meant.
“Now that you're ten, I thought you might like a real drink,” he said. “Maybe a rum punch or something light, that tastes good. Or a pina colada. I've got a mix that makes a great one.”
We stood there looking at each other for a long moment, me trying to figure out what he was up to. If nothing else, my uncle always came up with one surprise after another for me, not the usual uncle, I'd bet.
And his secret presents, so far, were always the best.
“I'm still just a kid,” I told him. “So I'm not sure-”
“One won't kill you,” he promised me. “Just never tell your mom or dad.”
I finally shrugged.
“Okay,” I nodded. “I'll take whichever one tastes the best.”
“A pina colada,” he told me. “You won't even taste the rum. Go on down and I'll bring it to you.”
So I headed down the stairs, into his finished basement, thick carpet and all, a bar, recessed ceiling and the works, but no surprise birthday present for a newly-turned 10-year-old girl that I could see.
I plopped down onto the black leather couch, waiting for my uncle and the first drink of my young life.
“Here you go,” he told me, handing me a large glass filled with a frothy liquid to the brim. “Taste it.”
So I did, sipping at it uncertainly, but immediately discovered I loved the taste. It was a coconut-like mixture, delicious and maybe even nutritious. There was a slim slice of pineapple in it, actual fruit, which I pulled out with my fingers and began to eat.
That had to be healthy.
“So…do you like it?” he asked, sipping at his own pina colada.
“I love it,” I told him, but then stood up and looked around the room. “But I don't see my birthday present.”
“Just be patient,” he suggested. “Let's finish our drinks first.”
I shrugged.
“Why not?”
By the time I started on my third pina colada, I was feeling very strange, to say the least.
“I think I'm drunk, Uncle Dan,” I said to him.
It was about 2:00 a.m., I was sprawled on the black leather couch, still in my shorty pajamas but with my robe thrown aside and my slippers kicked off. Even barefoot, the basement suddenly seemed very warm to me.
“I can't feel my face…”
And I laughed, and took another sip, still loving the taste of the coconut-like concoction. My skinny bare arms and legs seemed to be tingling, my head beginning to actually spin.
“That's perfect,” my uncle said, and brought out what looked like a gift-wrapped jewelry box. “Here's part of your present.”
“Finally!” I laughed foolishly. “Is it jewelry?”
He just shook his head.
“Something better,” he told me. “More fun.”
So I sat up straight and ripped off the wrapping paper, opening the box to discover a small blue plastic butterfly that was nestled in the middle of a little harness made of blue ribbons. There was also something that looked like a tiny remote control, as if for a very small TV, but with a small dial in the center instead of buttons.
I just stared at it all.
“I don't understand, Uncle Dan…” I started. “What's this little butterfly?”
He was going into the laundry room, but over his shoulder said to me, “It's actually called a butterfly, Jessica. It's fun. You'll see.”
“But what's it do?”
“I'll show you in a minute,” he promised, disappearing. “You'll love it.”
And as I sank back into the couch, my head spinning even more, he quickly reappeared through the doorway, pushing and sliding an odd-looking and obviously heavy piece of furniture across the carpet.
“What is that?” I wanted to know, more curious than anything else. “Is that the rest of my birthday present?”
It was a boxy wedge-like ramp, about 3 feet wide and 4 feet long, with a high section rising out of the middle, the whole thing entirely covered with what looked like black velvet. It was also big enough for a person to lie on or to sit on. Yet it looked like no furniture I'd ever seen.
It also had several black straps attached on each side, a few at each end.
“I had to special order it,” he told me. “It's very expensive. And it's ergonomically designed for comfort, just for you, Jessica.”
I stood up on wobbly legs, leaving my drink on the end table beside the couch, and walked unsteadily around the thing.
“Is it a chair or a bed?” I asked. “Or is it for the computer?”
“Let me show you.”
He took my small hand and led me around to the end of the ramp that rose only a few inches off the floor, then put his hands on my narrow lower back and gently had me drop down to my knees on the thing.
“It's sort of spongy,” I giggled to him, not certain what I was doing anymore. “It feels nice, though.”
“Exactly.”
He gently leaned me forward, so that my waist was resting over and on the black velvet section that was raised in the middle, then had me lay down further so that my upper body was resting (and slightly stretched across) the rest of the thing at a slightly downward angle.
My bare arms were on each side but my hands couldn't quite reach the floor. And it left my butt sticking weirdly up in the air.
“Is it for exercise?” I wanted to know. “It's definitely comfortable. In fact, I could probably go to sleep on this thing…”
And that was the last thing I remember.
It must have been all that rum in the pina coladas.
And when I woke up again, the situation in my Uncle Dan's basement had drastically changed. I was still face down on the black velvet wedge/ramp thing, but I noticed many things at the same time.
The first was that I couldn't move my arms.
“Hey!” I cried out, a little scared finally. “Uncle Dan…!”
“Relax, Jessica,” I heard him say, behind me. “You're going to like this more than you think.”
Both of my hands were held in place on either side by the soft straps around my slim wrists, as were my slender bare ankles held in place, and apart, so that my coltish legs were spread, by similar straps at the rear of the thing.
I pulled against the straps but discovered I couldn't move. At least, not enough to make any difference. Or escape.
My uncle had somehow gotten my pajama bottoms off before strapping me in so that my little butt was not only sticking up in the air but was bare as well, my only clothing my skimpy pajama top. I was also somehow wearing the blue plastic butterfly in the little blue ribbon harness around my naked hips.
The butterfly itself was directly on my hairless vagina, tightly enough against it to be pressing into it slightly.
“This is called sex furniture,” my uncle said, somewhere behind me. “If you're good, you should enjoy the next couple of hours. But, if you're bad…well, I'll have to spank your bare little ass all over this room.”
And as his voice trailed off, the threat remained in the air.
“What are you doing?!” I started to cry, full-out scared by then. “Uncle Dan, please, I don't like this…”
His warm hand suddenly gave my bare butt a gentle squeeze, causing me to jerk with shock at the sensation. A second later, he touched at my butthole, just pressing a fingertip against it, making me jerk again.
“Oh, God, no!” I was shaking my head. “Please, Uncle Dan!”
“Tell me how much you like this,” he said calmly. “Or love it, actually.”
And a second later the butterfly came to life on my little pussy, a low vibration steadily emitting from it that went straight into my most sensitive part, the little hot-button I'd discovered years earlier with my fingers.
My clitoris.
That was something I'd looked up repeatedly on the computer in the 3rd grade, all about my clit, as soon as I'd realized I could give myself endless pleasure (orgasms!) manipulating it.
“Ohhhh, God!” I moaned involuntarily, squirming, the vibrations rippling outward from that tiny pinpoint of sensation and throughout my entire crotch. “Uncle Dan, I don't want to do this… please.”
But he apparently then turned the dial of the remote control up another notch, for as the vibrations increased so did my pleasure, my pussy filling with so much oily moisture I was suddenly dripping.
“You say no, but your sweet little cunt says yes,” he informed me, gently sliding a fingertip under the butterfly from behind and just inside the quivering lips of my now-pulsing vagina. “You're already wet and breathing hard.”
That was true, as well.
My heartbeat was suddenly pounding in my ears, my breath growing ragged, whether from fear or sexual excitement I couldn't tell. His finger then left my pussy and, still slippery with my little-girl lubrication, traced a moist path back to my small anus, then slid into it.
“Oh, God! Uhhh.”
As I lay there, facedown and helpless, he slid his finger in and out of my asshole for several long moments, clearly excited to be doing so, if his rapidly quickening breathing was any real indication.
“Leave my butthole alone,” I begged him, trying to squirm away but unable to. “I can't believe this!”
With my face pressed sideways against the black velvet ramp-like part of the sex furniture, I saw him kneeling beside me and just behind me. He was completely naked, his body completely shaved so that his penis and testicles were clearly visible.
Standing out as if from a 3-D movie.
He had a huge erection, the stiffness of it jutting up, the swollen head of it red and already throbbing.
I started to cry again.
“Please, Uncle Dan, don't put that big thing up me…” I whimpered. “Not up my little butthole.”
I knew instinctively, and immediately, what he planned.
He gave me a look of mild surprise, then smacked my bare ass with his open hand, making me jump.
“I am going to stick my cock up your virgin asshole,” he informed me, as if I heard that kind of thing every day. “It may hurt a little at first, but in the long run you're going to love it. I promise you, Jessica.”
Hearing that, I strained to get free but only succeeded in tightening the straps even more so on my skinny wrists and ankles.
The vibrations of the butterfly were bringing me only moments from an orgasm that I couldn't escape, and when it finally burst within my pussy, I groaned loudly and jerked taut with the sensations coursing through me.
Even my toes spread apart involuntarily.
“Uhhhhh!” I groaned, but tried not to cry out too loudly, knowing it would only encourage the man about to violate me. “ Ummmm! Ohhhh, God!”
I was squirming against my bindings while the delicious spasms filled my pussy, my immature tiny pink nipples noticing and suddenly, helplessly, pointy with arousal, betraying me.
“You're coming really hard,” my uncle pointed out to me, unnecessarily. “Tell me if this hurts…”
And as I continued to climax for an impossibly long time, the vibrator buzzing away on my clit, my Uncle Dan again slid an entire finger up my asshole, my anus clenching at him as he began once again sliding it slowly in and out of me.
Fingerfucking my sweet little asshole. Which had never harmed a soul.
“I hate it!” I lied, feeling no pain whatsoever.
If anything, it was just a little pressure, as he fingered me back there with increasing speed. At least my forced orgasm was over, subsiding at last. I began trying to catch my breath.
“Uncle Dan, you're hurting my butt!”
He slowly withdrew his finger, then a moment later was using a fingertip to coat the entire crack of my small 10-year-old bottom with some kind of slick lubrication, all the better (I guessed) to rape me in my asshole.
In fact, he then covered my entire asshole with the stuff, then slid his finger back into my butt and began sliding it in and out again. But far quicker this time. My breathing went back to being all ragged and harsh.
“Uncle Dan, you can't do this!” I cried out again. “Please don't…”
But at the same time he turned the butterfly vibrator up to full speed, the shocking orgasm exploding between my thighs sending me right back into the world of sexual pleasure, pleasure that was even better because of his finger.
“Ohhhh, God, I'm coming again!”
And I was, coming so hard and unexpectedly that my throbbing asshole clamped tightly onto his finger, gripping at it wetly as he continued to slide it feverishly in and out of my squirming bare butt.
“Just relax,” he told me. “It'll make this so much easier. That's why I gave you the drinks and put the vibrator on you, so you'd relax and like getting fucked in your little asshole.”
Then, taking me completely by surprise, he apparently chose even another method to relax me back there, his tongue suddenly licking the now-lubricated crack of my little ass up and down slowly.
Until he ended at my asshole. I gasped as his tongue wetly lapped around it. And then slid into it.
“You're sticking your tongue up my butt!” I complained. “That's disgusting!”
He laughed, pulling his face back slightly.
“No, it's not,” he informed me. “Your asshole tastes like the mango-flavored lubrication I used. So your asshole is delicious.”
“Great,” I sighed, shaking my head, but not crying any more.
And then the butterfly vibrator got me off yet again, the build-up between my orgasms growing shorter with each one. I was entirely helpless to resist, instead coming and coming and coming once more.
“Ohhhh, it's doing it to me again!” I panted hoarsely. “Ohhh, God!”
“It's time for the main event,” my Uncle Dan said. Playfully smacking by bare ass one more time. “Try to relax, Jennifer.”
And as my most recent orgasm slowly left me, my wet pussy and my well-lubed asshole still shaky with the residue of overwhelming pleasure that'd coursed wildly through me moments before, the man I'd grown to love as much as my own father knelt behind me.
And then slid the swollen head of his stiffly throbbing cock between the slippery cheeks of my ass.
When I felt that fleshy tip touch my taut asshole, I tensed with expectation, but the pain I knew to be forthcoming didn't arrive.
“Ohhh, my God!” I moaned, anyway.
Yet before I knew it, the entire head of my Uncle Dan's cock was already inside of my ass. It'd slid into me so smoothly and effortlessly that I'd felt no pain, but rather a odd almost-pleasure.
“I barely felt it going in me!” I said, without really meaning to. “I can't believe it.”
Without a word, he held onto my bare hips and pressed his own hips steadily forward, his long cock sliding inch by trembling inch into my rubbery anus, stretching it open as he entered me.
But without any specific pain.
It was more like a dull sensation of increasing pressure, almost as if I had to suddenly run to the bathroom.
“I think I have to poop,” I told him, between gasping breaths. “I mean it, Uncle Dan, I don't want to make a mess.”
He slapped the side of my bare ass again, as playfully as before, having no real interest in actually causing me pain, I knew.
“It'll pass,” he told me. “By the way, my cock's all the way up your asshole. How's it feel?”
I steadied myself, then took a quick inventory of every sensation and feeling I was experiencing. Only the slightest discomfort was evident in my tightly clenching, overly lubricated asshole. The very real throbbing of my uncle's buried cock was far more noticeable.
“Well…” I started, wiggling my butt slightly to see how it'd feel. “My cunt is soaked, my tiny nipples are sticking out like little pencil erasers, my clit is sticking out even more and dying for further attention, and my butthole is…well, sort of liking your big cock all the way up it.”
Uncle Dan laughed, the sensation as his cock jerked slightly in reaction not the least unpleasant.
“I told you,” he said smugly. “Jennifer.”
And he began slowly stroking his hard penis back out of me, almost pulling it all the way out of my asshole, but then surprised me, his favorite oversexed little niece, with a sudden thrust that took him back to the hilt within me.
“Oh, yes!” I moaned. “That felt good…”
I'd been wrong, wrong, wrong all along, I guess, about anal sex. And I was willing to admit it.
Every time before, when we'd fucked like rabbits in Uncle Dan's basement, me wearing all the sexy clothes he'd bought me, lacy crotchless panties and the like, or using all the sex toys he'd also got me, vibrators and dildo's and the little paddles we both loved spanking each other with, he always wanted to fuck me up my ass. Begged me to do it, In fact.
To butt-fuck his little niece.
But I always stopped him. My always-wet pussy was enough for anyone, I kept telling him, or my mouth-I'd swallowed his hot cum about a thousand times. So nothing would ever happen in my tight little butt, I'd said, meaning it.
I was no friend of real pain, which I'd expected to be a big part of it.
But tonight, the night of my birthday, he'd proven me wrong.
And he'd also managed to include my favorite fantasy of all, rape! Which I'd confided to him many times. I don't know why the thought of being forced against my will excited me so greatly, but it did.
Particularly, being forced by a relative.
“Uncle Dan!” I gasped, panting once again. “Keep doing that! Fuck me in my asshole! Ohhh! It's so dirty, doing it to me! You're in my butt! I'm such a filthy little whore, loving it so much!”
“You are a little whore,” he laughed, beginning to screw my butt in earnest. “And a filthy one besides! And your asshole feels every bit as good as your tight little cunt-at least to my cock, it does!”
“You're the best uncle ever!” I groaned. “I love you so much!”
“I love you, too, Jennifer…”
And I could already feel another orgasm sneaking up on me, my new butterfly vibrator humming happily away on my clitoris and my favorite uncle's big dick pistoning smoothly in and out of my throbbing anus.
It was all the wanton and perverted pleasure a very young girl could want for her 10th birthday.
“Oh, God, Uncle Dan, here I go again…!”